


To No One Shall I Bestow These Crystallized Eyes

by KuyaReCom



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Animal Traits, Animal Transformation, Astronomy, Biological Warfare, Blood and Injury, Dark Fantasy, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Minor Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor Violence, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23929498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuyaReCom/pseuds/KuyaReCom
Summary: Treating injured animals has always been Sachirou's job. Calming is the way he can describe how it feels to watch living beings that aren't humans returning to full health.He doesn't volunteer to get tossed into a potion mix full of dark magic, alluring fairy dust and slanted crystalline eyes.
Relationships: Hirugami Sachirou & Hoshiumi Kourai, Hirugami Sachirou/Hoshiumi Kourai
Comments: 20
Kudos: 34





	1. To Days and Colours

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been a huge fan of hiruhoshi and I've managed to squeeze some time into writing a fic about them! I originally planned this to be a one-shot but idea happens, and now it's multi-chap so uhuh.
> 
> Fair warning that this fic isn't guaranteed to be good, you must spot some grammar mistakes I make, and this is nearly horrible.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Blood and Gore

The rushing of heavy waves crashing into boulders fills the silence.

Sachirou exhales into the morning air, watching the warm mist dissipating in the chill air. He stares at the sun peeking unbashedly past the marine sea and the horizon, calmness washing his body. He hears the birds chirping awake, leaving their nests in search of food. He turns his attention to the shifting in his coat pocket, smiling as a bird's head full of beaver pokes outside, its beak clicking away to the same chirping melody currently lulling him.

Sachirou chuckles quietly as the bird is eager to wring away, the cloth he tied around it isn't loosening at the slightest. He crouches down and places it on the sand, he unwraps it and runs his thumb and index at its left wing.

He mutters, "Your wing's all better now. Next time, don't try to pick a fight with another bird, okay?"

The bird flaps its wings, testing the newly healed bone before taking off, sand trailing. Sachirou watches as it swerves and chirps happily, heading for the direction of the swamp forest behind the lining of palm trees. Smiling softly, he smells the tingling salt as he turns back to where he comes from. Sunlight starts to filter through the gaps between the leaves, casting low opacity shadows. As he walks on the marked road, fresh dews cling to his ankle-length boots.

Sachirou appreciates the morning experiences he's blessed with, the starting and buzzing of activities by all slumbering creatures always start at this moment. Just in time, a weasel rushes past him and dives into a bush.

"Whoa!" He steps back, taken by the abrupt movement. The weasel doesn't even give him a sideways glance, merely disappearing into wilder bushes.

Sachirou brushes his coat and continues his path, being greeted by more animals as he takes the right crossway, avoids the fallen trunk, and takes a turn in another crossroad before finding himself in a narrow alleyway. It agonises him to squeeze through and he stumbles a bit as he comes out of the space.

He straightens his back and climbs up the uneven stairs, entering the mass morning crowd. He follows the direction the crowd is heading, gaze flicking to the square buildings built by bricks. More often than not, a part of the crowd disperses towards the small shops and other crooked alleyways.

Same as them, he soon makes a sharp turn after the fancy antique shop with a funny looking hat that giggles whenever he passes by. Avoiding late night drunkards that had too much alcohol and angry wives at home, Sachirou stops his tracks as he finds himself in front of a rigid building.

He pushes the door open and a faint chiming sound trinkles in the dent, quiet store. The small shop looks unoccupied, scatters of various objects littering everywhere, dream catchers hanging above his head, lower ones brushing the crown of his head. The blinds over the windows are rolled up, letting in the warm sunlight to brighten the gloomy interior. His surveillance is cut short when the shop owner appears behind the wooden counter.

Komori flashes him a smile, "Good morning, Sachirou-san!"

Sachirou moves towards him, giving him back a smile, "Good morning to you too, Komori-san."

He pulls out a small bundle wrapped in coarse manila papers, "It's rare for you to come here this early, Sachirou-san."

He answers, "I'm thinking of finishing my errands early today."

Komori raises an eyebrow at that, his expression changing from cheerful to amusement. He teases, "The workaholic vet and pride of this small town, Sachirou, actually has something to do besides work?"

He chuckles vigilantly, "I have fun like an actual human being, you know."

"Then you should come to the bar even more! Do you know how many times those oldies ask me - when will you finally let them treat you to that shot of sake? It's been 4 months and I'm still counting, man." Komori waves his arms wildly, as if he can shoo away the imaginary stubborn grandpas bothering him.

"You know I hate bars, and they don't bother me. They're nice." He answers, remembering the amount of fresh raspberries he was given a week ago.

Komori grumbles quietly, "Only you ..." He slumps a small sack onto the table, "Only you can make evil grandpas sound like angels." He shudders quietly.

Sachirou ignores Komori's obvious suffering and pulls open the string around the knot. He peeks to see a small cluster of crystal shards, mostly dull grey, and a few are shimmering weakly in turquoise light. He nods in satisfaction, lifting his head to say. "This is all?"

Komori answers neutrally, he rests his arms on the countertop, "For today. Tomorrow, you'll get a bigger order to make this up."

"If that's all, I'll be going. Thanks, Komori-san." He takes the sack and throws a little goodbye wave at Komori, the latter shouting as he climbs back outside, "See you tomorrow!"

Sachirou exhales a steady breath, feeling the jugular weight of the sack before trotting back to his place.

His home and workplace is a simple cottage tucked in the woods, made of pinewood and surrounded by gardens of Bodhi seeds to ward away unwanted monsters. It is not near the area of small clusters of houses or in district towns but the woods' outer ring, simply because the inner is forbidden for anyone to enter in accordance with the government laws. 

He enters and drops the sack on the table. He shrugs off his trench coat and hangs it on a chair before carefully removing his caramel leather gloves from his hands. Sachirou yawns, reaching for his cupboard to grab out a bottle of jam, he dwells for a second to choose the marmalade one. Deciding on strawberry for this morning, he plucks out a few toasts and smears butter on them using a knife. Dropping them onto the stove, he sits on the chair and flicks through a hardcover file while they simmer on the hot iron. He grabs a pen and starts to scribble some additional information for his work.

When he senses the smell of nearly burning, he motions his left index finger, sending an instruction for the toasts to flip themselves. Concentrating on the line about vesicular bone, Sachirou wrinkles his nose and sends another instruction for the toasts to float towards him. He jabs his finger at a plate and they plop down, he leaves his file for a bit to spread strawberry jam on his breakfast. He bites one and the taste of the cherry red fruit overflows in his mouth.

His routine today is no different than usual; after finishing his breakfast, he walks around the town, not finding anyone who needs his help and heads towards the Restoration Tree to give back the scrolls he had been lent. When Sachirou enters the oaken tree, rows of tall shelves line together and papers dance around him in greeting. A calligraphy brush hovers silently beside him, it twirls around before deciding to stoop down to an open book. Dipping deeply into a bottle of dragon blood, Sachirou watches it strike down the hiragana of his name.

Walking towards the main desk, Sachirou makes a thorough glance at the vast area. The ceiling is carved with the Libra constellation, gemstones of the seasonal zodiac sparkling in a different light. The orbs encased in glass cases can't rival how spectacular the veteran's work is. 

Sachirou puts the bundle of scrolls on the mahogany table, careful not to knock over the towers of books and the cat mannequin on it. The person sitting in front of him slowly lowers the thick book obscuring his face.

Kenma scowls, "Ah. It's you."

Sachirou beams him a smile, "Nice to see you too, Kenma-san."

Kenma scrunches his button nose, closes the book he's reading and Sachirou catches the title before the petite man blocks it with his arms.

_Depictions of Shapeshifters: The 12 Major Zodiacs_

Kenma speaks, lifting Sachirou's attention back to his face. He's in a thin blood red sweater and his dark black hair is tied in a bun with a ribbon of the matching colour. His bored expression doesn't change as he pokes at the scrolls with his fingertip. "Are you returning these?"

"Yes, what other reason will I have?" He pushes in.

Kenma's sharp eyes stare upwards at him, Sachirou hopes he doesn't notice the slight shiver it gave. "I dunno, you want to give me another baked apple pie again?"

"Unfortunately, I don't have any apples at home."

Kenma has this cold analysing look in his eyes, properly scrutinizing if the information is true. He lands his gaze back on the scrolls, pettily saying. "Shame. There's no reason why I should let you have access to the Restriction Area anymore."

Sachirou moans disappointingly, "Come on, Kenma-san! Just this once!"

"No pie, no talk." He brandishes himself, picking up the book.

"I'll teach you how to bake Nekomata-jiichan's signature pie." Kenma stops halfway.

He makes an indistinguishable noise, putting the book back down and reaches for the scrolls. Gently unfurling them, the tip of his index finger hobbles to every syllables that spelled out the titles in runes. Sachirou flits his gaze towards the burnt trace of a single line at his ring finger, a peach contrast to his milky pale skin.

"How's work?"

Kenma stops his hushing mutters before picking up the next scroll, tattered at the edges.

"The usual." He grunts.

"Have you heard any exciting news from the Capital?" Sachirou attempts to drag the very uninterested Kenma into small talk. Sharply-cut bangs cover his narrowed eyes as Kenma answers, "No."

He stops trying to peel open Kenma's strongly stubborn layers, switching his attention to the arrangements of pamphlet guides on the metal rack. He grabs one about the town's travel guide and flips it open. Visitors to the site are exceptionally rare and only a bare scuffle of government officials visit the the town's Restoration Tree, despite one of the top graduates of their highest scholar academy being in charge of the branch. Sachirou won't know this valuable piece of information if he didn't bribe Kenma himself with a slice of apple pie, the man will literally do anything for what he called; _the heavenliest gift of dessert_.

Sachirous wonders why Kenma even picks Heiwa in the first place. _Heiwa_ is a small town located in one of the biggest Eastern prefectures, only a tiny dot on a map surrounded by bigger and infamous areas. Visitors are uncommon since their ties with the outside world are only just a few paragraphs in their local history textbooks. Kenma once said that it's not bothersome and doesn't have a lot of troubles like the other and more infamous branches.

A cough.

"Not entering the Restriction Area? Might be your last chance." Sachirou picks up the piece of parchment Kenma has shoved without looking.

"Thanks, Kenma-san." The scholar grunts in reply, gesturing for him to go away.

Half an hour later, he finds himself back on the street. He makes sure the books he brings out are safely secured in his bag, Kenma will kill him if he spills some tea on them. Scratch that, Kenma will just laud him with a curse that'll be worse than instant death.

Sachirou looks down, seeing the perspective of far and slotted houses stretching together with the street, stopping as the end dot connects together with the marine harbour.

He once again walks, but this time, he climbs up a small hill. Hidden from view due to the restoration tree shadowing over it, no one actually goes here. Children often choose the empty lawns for their playgrounds, town folks tend to spend their daytime by working, only he comes here. Slotting the soles of his boots on each dug-soil by the many times they were trekked upon, Sachirou heaves himself up the last step and straightens his body.

Strands of brown hair that obscure his vision are blown away by the gentle breeze coming from the salty ocean. He takes it all in, the muddy sands were a sharp contrast to the glimmering blue water. Ships glide around as tiny blobs of people take a stroll, occasionally hearing dogs barking.

Sitting himself on the thick grass, he pulls his bag onto his lap. Latching it open, he takes out the same brown sack Komori had given him before settling the bag on his right side. He takes off his gloves beforehand.

Firstly, he runs his fingers on one of the dimly lit shards. Turquoise light spills on his skin as Sachirou inspects it,

 _5.7 cm - average -_ he twirls it around,

 _a family member from the Lapis branch,_ a quiet vibrating sensation as it bluntly pierces his palm. _Water affinity._

He decks it down as a customary affinity shard. Holding it tightly, he lets a small gap to open in his inner mana storage. Immediately, a small wave of them bursts out and Sachirou barely manages to hold them back - he's not sorry, no exploding blood vessels today - It courses violently, searching for the magical vibration's source, Sachirou feels them bouncing around in his body, pass layers of epidermis and clotting of organs before halting to a complete stop.

The zap through his index finger is the only recognition he receives that the mana stream has reached the shard. He watches with a critical eye as the feeble light gains a brighter hue, even more, until it reaches a healthy colour of blue.

Sachirou hums in satisfaction, he says quietly.

"One down, more to go."

* * *

The sunset is mere minutes away when he's finally finished. Sachirou huffs loudly, tiredness wrecking his body. The mana gate is now closed, its citizens whining for a chance to go outside. Sachirou sends them a clear message. _Next time._ That doesn't completely stop the protests but at least, it lessens them a bit. 

His fingers feel numb as he dons his gloves, controlling mana has always been a tough and hassle body workout. To this, he peers into the sack, proudness welling up at the sight of many prettily lit crystal shards. Various colours bounce together, so powerful that they eventually change the dull sack into a rainbow one.

_Komori-san will be delighted._

He concludes as he stands on his feet, relishing in the soreness in his legs. The last rays of the revealing sun directly hit his face, Sachirou brings up a hand to cover his blazing eyesight. The sun might be weak in autumn but like hell it'll stop from torturing inhabitants with its hellish powers.

He wonders what he should eat for dinner tonight, he's been skipping balanced food intakes lately. Maybe he'll cook some miso soup with tofu, it'll work well with his appetite and current energy drainage.

This is how Sachirou's daily life usually goes; simple and not complicated. Never a skip in his steady steps, which is why, when a huge fury of white shoots down from the sky - Sachirou is taken aback.

It's like a distorted footage; a small meteor of stark white against the bloody orange background zooming down with a speed that flashes through normal eyes in a blink, something detaches from the alienous form, glinting sharply as it splatters into the ocean. The main body doesn't slow down, but gains faster speed and doesn't even stop when it tumbles down into the salty water. Rolling around with the heavy tides at a hurtful momentum, sliding through mud fill shores and finally, ceases its descent on the earth.

It lets out a loud cry.

The next second, Sachirou is running.

Blood roars in his ears as he slides down the hill, the grass is slippery and he nearly falls flat on his face. Barely managing to jump the last meters and ignoring the snapping of his pained ankles, he runs, runs, towards it.

Sachirou knows that voice - he recognises it anywhere - it's the instinctual sound of a living creature. Only beings with a beating heart can form that noise. The size of the creature that fell is the size of an infant, but no child can suddenly appear from the centre of the sky like that, and to drop from a height of that degree?

If it isn't still crying, Sachirou will think that it's already dead.

The crying pain continues.

It's an animal.

His panted breaths encourage the growing panic in his chest. He reaches the beach and throws away his bag as far away as he can with his sore arms, he can't afford to damage them. Trudging through alarmingly growing water levels, he feels mud sneaking into his boots and sand clinging onto his trousers. Saltwater sprays into his gasping mouth as he scoops up the animal with trembling hands.

A seagull. A seagull with white and baby blue feathers drenching, fast droplets of water trickling down the sogged ruffles. He finds the colours to be peculiar but that's not it, the drops of water that are falling are now mixed with a wrong shade of red.

Blood.

Sachirou carelessly turns over one of its wings, his eyes grow wider at the huge stab mark puncturing the bird's body. "Oh no - " He chokes out before putting a tender finger on it. It lets out a low squawk. Sachirou halts.

"I'm sorry," He manages to say before forcing his numb legs to move, wading through the water that has reached his waist by now. Planting his final step into dry land, he hurryingly removes his coat and wraps the seagull in it. The crispy texture of his coat won't do any comfortable good, but Sachirou can't bear to look at the seagull. It has its eyes tightened and beak clicking animously and that hurts his heart.

He hefts up his bag and begins sprinting, the shivering of the bundled seagull driving him to move his legs faster. Cold wind whips on his face and his whole body is solidly freezing as he runs in the evening light, his home as his destination.

Owls hoot as he reaches the clearing in front of his cottage. He barges in, using his damp right leg to kick away stray objects from his table.

Settling the seagull carefully, he unwraps his coat and finds it shaking laboriously. Sachirou grabs the nearest piece of clothing he can find, _damn, it's his favourite T-shirt -_

But no dallying, he presses it onto the wound with controlled pressure. The seagull cries silently, its head lolling to a very not normal direction.

Sachirou finds the next 3 minutes as painful torture, he lets out a breath of relief when the blood flow seems to slow down, the clotting in the damaged blood vessels doing their job. He checks the wound, thinking about how to sew it close only to see a very hideous purple hue.

"Purple?" He leans in closer, the seagull twitches. He can clearly see the penetrated spot, the size indicates that it's either a dagger or a knife. It will look relatively normal if there's no purple-coloured clump on it. "And it's dark, dark purple? Wait, it looks more like black? Purplish black? Huh - "

The purple mark oozes out black pus.

 _"Fuck."_ Sachirou realises.

He scampers towards his shelves full of magical ingredients, grabbing for a ton of herbs while muttering "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-"

He unscrews a jar of cinnamon and tosses a handful of sage as the black pus grows noticeably larger and more dangerous.

_How and why, why, why, why, why must it be black magic?!_

Sachirou gags internally when the putid stench of pus attacks his lungs, he summons a long line of his mana, urging them to crush the mess of herbs into icky liquid. They pleasantly obey him.

Yanking his gloves off for who knows how many fuckaton that day, he dippers his fingers with it and calms himself down.

He shoves his fingers into the wound.

The seagull screeches in pain.

The black pus explodes and Sachirou doesn't manage to dodge the spurting acid. It burns his cheek and Sachirou can barely feel the stinging when he's deep in squelching flesh. He holds the seagull by the neck with his other hand as it thrashes around, no doubt subjecting itself to practical burning and more torn tissues.

Sachirou reluctantly moves his fingers, _t_ _ries_ to ignore the way the bird seemingly whimpers as he destroys any remains of the dirty magic.

When Sachirou finally finishes, it feels like forever or eternity has passed. He removes his fingers with a sickening _plop_ and his tired legs finally give in, he tumbles down to the floor. His whole body is flushed with sweat and enervated as hell, the opposite reaction of his mana storage who is partying excitingly in his veins.

_Shut up, shut up._

He forces them to stay silent. Sachirou lets himself to take one last inhale before shoving both sides of the table to get back on his feet. He scurries for bandages and begins wrapping up the clean injury. Trying hard not to stare at the pool of blood or disturb the seagull currently in a very deep sleep, his eyelids droop halfway.

Fussing over the last layer, he sighs and strokes its head, eyes trailing lazily at how the blood on his fingers permeate with the dirty baby blue feathers.

"Rest up, we both have it hard today." He mutters hoarsely. It doesn't respond, to no surprise.

The rattling whimper it gave just now has been replaced by steady breaths, Sachirou's pleased with its stable condition. He gently picks the seagull up, careful not to touch the injured part and places it into a makeshift nest containing his clothes. 

Then, Sachirou prods towards his bed, he deals with his lumbering boots by kicking them away grimly. He's too lazy to remove his sweater that is sticking tenaciously on his skin and sodden trousers as he flops onto the soft mattress. As the heavy bricks of his day come crushing him down in full force, he is greeted with the familiar curtain of darkness.


	2. To Time and Knowings

Sachirou feels like hell has been unleashed and sets all its punishments towards him when he wakes up.

Groaning sleepily, his body is attacked with total numbness. His clothes have dried completely but they're sticking with an itchy ruthlessness on his skin and his left cheek stings with merciless pain. He groans once again, but this time out of irritation.

His sinuses clear a bit when he moves his head, that's when he smells the blood.

Without hesitation, Sachirou flips from his bed, landing on the wooden floor achingly on his bottom. He hisses in pain before hoisting himself up, watching with horrified realisation at the fleck of dried blood between his fingers.

Padding quickly, he halts and disbelief hits him full in the face. He cab properly take in the bizarre scene and the absolute ruckus his usually neat workplace had become due to what happened last night.

His table has been dyed in blood, with a few important pages and documents he hadn't managed to clear joining the bloodfest. He picks grumpily at a lump of what seems to be his now unfavourite T-shirt. Spreading on the table and floor were litters of various herbs, the strong spiciness of cinnamon clashing with the metallic blood causing Sachirou to be hit with a strong wave of dizziness. He pokes hesitantly at some drops of leftover black pus, staring at how they hiss before melting into unsolved liquid. Sachirou takes in the scene before him and ponders about how long it will take to clean all of this up.

Then, he remembers what has caused this in the first place, the manifesto that happened yesterday - and hurries to the makeshift nest. 

It looks undisturbed and Sachirou sighs in relief at the seagull naping peacefully. Its head buried into the collar of his maroon sweater. He strokes its peculiar baby blue feathers gently, watching its chest rising and falling.

Watching the seagull in a relaxing state brings in a sense of security to him, it's lowkey adoring and gentle. Something glimmers in the dark corner, Sachirou grabs for it.

The bell chimes melodically, a red band looped tightly around it. Sachirou unloops it, it tangles between his crusty fingers as the musical instrument splits into two, revealing a neatly folded piece of paper in the golden inside. The paper was written with an amicable and dexterous style, Sachirou reads it while the seagull twitches in its sleep.

_Dear Sachirou-san,_

_I'm pleased to meet with you at our usual place when the seven hands indicate 12 after the zero cycle. Please don't bring the usual necessities but every basic nullification potion you have. Rather than a treatment, I want to discuss something with you. I look forward to our meeting._

_K. S._

Sachirou whispers an _Oh,_ searching inside his memory box for today's schedule. There is the usual going to Komori's shop, he usually leaves plans for the Restoration Tree at the end of his day but he needs to inform Kenma about lenghtening the books' lending period. There's a few appointments he must attend and one of them is meeting him.

He stretches languidly, if he wants to finish everything in time, it's best to start it right now. He takes a look at the time, the clock with 7 hands are all shown at the 8th roman numeral - _8 Strokes After Midnight._

It's the 7th Day of the Libra Constellation, he concludes. 

Sachirou wonders if he has enough time to wash his clothes and clean his workplace, he can't just leave with his place smelling like a slaughterhouse or a murder scene. He inwardly frowns, using mana is the only time-solving solution.

Gearing open the barrier in his mana compartment, he commands them to move the cleaning equipment and begin working. He stares a moment longer with a critical eye, making sure they're not out of control such as dumping a bucket of water onto his head, before dragging his feet to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Washing his body is a tough job; wiping all the sand, removing the mud from his nails, untangling his messy brown hair that is even messier than normal. He glares at the scorch mark on his cheek when he wipes the fog off the mirror. The cause of the stinging, apparently. He closes his eyes and opens them again once confirmed that the leftover black magic was eliminated by his magically-infused immune system. Glad to hear, he doesn't want a civilisation of forbidden magic to take over him.

Washing his clothes is undoubtedly tougher, his fingers are prudy and his limbs are aching when he has squeezed the last drop of water from his sweater. Sachirou hoists the bucket full of clothes and sets his way towards the back of the cottage. He can hear the rustling of a floating feather dust as the chilly breeze pleasantly makes the clipped clothes fly.

He peeks in to see the equipment hard at work and nearly finished. Telling his mana to stop, he stops a broom from hitting the floor halfway by grabbing the hilt then he sweeps the leftover greeneries out of the cottage and into the yard. Sachirou looks back at his neat workplace and smiles to himself, he takes another look at the seagull just to see it still sleeping.

"I'll check the wound when I'm back." Sachirou says to no one, he peers into his bag to see that his mana had packed everything necessary. Doning another coat he had unburied from his wardrobe, Sachirou is starting to go outside until he falters a bit on the doorstep.

He spins around to look at the seagull, what if something happens when he's away? Sachirou lifts a hand and mutters.

_"Keimusho."_

A triple magic circle appears above the seagull, blue runes flashing before the whole magical recitation disappears. The seagull barely moves, unaware of the spell it had been cast. Sachirou nods, now he can no longer worry too much.

Heading towards the same path in town yesterday towards Komori's shop, nothing feels different. Townfolks are still buzzing away with their daily lives like usual, as if they didn't find themselves in a crazy situation such as Sachirou's.

Crazy? Sachirou shakes his head, the situation yesterday can be deemed as insane. A seagull crashing into the ocean after falling at a very high altitude was insane, a seagull being stabbed by a dagger was a cruel act, a seagull being used by as a dark magic toy was _unacceptable_.

What Sachirou can't overlook is that the seagull is still alive. Alive after what happened. All those upper situations combined would guarantee a sure death. But, that seagull actually came out alive. If Sachirou was a minute late yesterday, then maybe it would be dead. Maybe is the keyword, Sachirou can't guarantee it kicking a bucket when it had suffered through a miracle. A seagull doesn't have that much mana to survive a fall that promises death, unless if it's a magical creature.

The teapot giggles shrilly when Sachirou turns by, _at least some things don't change._

Komori has a mixed expression of reassurance and shock when he comes in, the shorter man still manages to look angry while folding chain mail. "You're late today, Sachirou-san!"

Sachirou looks at the direction Komori's finger is pointing, a clock with all 7 hands pointing at the 10th roman numeral.

"Ah, sorry." Offering an apology, Sachirou rubs the back of his neck.

He puts the sack on the table, Komori reaches for it and huffs in response, "It's rare for you to be late! I was worried if you ended up in an accident or attacked by a monster, there are too many monsters lurking in that forest, why do you even live there - huh?!"

Sachirou whips his head at Komori's sudden exclamation, his eyes quickly widening in shock at a crystal shard, which he's sure had been a healthy blue yesterday, in Komori's hands in the colour of pitch black.

He hurls himself and snatches the crystal before Komori can come back to his senses, his ribs jab in the corner of the counter as he does so and he holds back a wince.

Komori exclaims, "Ah!" but Sachirou is faster and glares at the crystal shard he's now holding.

The mana he had infused into it yesterday is now gone, _gone._ There's no sign of energy in it, just a dull, lifeless rock. He anxiously pours all the sack's contents onto the counter.

The pile of black crystal shards clatter harmonically, as if mocking him and Sachirou finds himself tasting bitter bile at the back of his throat. Komori leans closer, the mild scent of peaches tingles his nose.

He asks quietly, cautious to tread. "Sachirou-san, can you please tell me why my crystal shards are filled with black magic?"

Unvoiced, _why are they dead?_

He cards a hand into his hair, roughly messing it. Ignoring the direct question, Sachirou knows Komori will gain suspicion somehow. Frustration seeps into his voice as he grinds out, "I'm truly sorry, Komori-san. I'll fix them back up if you're willing to wait." Snapping, he shoves all of them back into the sack.

"No, no - ! I'm fine with it!" Komori grabs his wrist, Sachirou freezes from the sudden contact, he's wearing gloves but the warmth from the contact is overwhelming even through the thick fabric. Komori takes this opportunity to debate like the stubborn man he is, "Honestly, black shards are rare to find nowadays! I'm fine with them."

"But you said you want water affinity shards-"

"It's. Totally. Fine. One of my colleagues is in dire need of black magic. Water elements can wait."

Sachirou finds himself falling into the trap of Komori's effective coaxing and pure honesty, plus the doe eyes he can't ignore. He exhales through clenched teeth and loosens his hold on the sack, "If you say so."

Komori flashes one of his friendly, toothy grins before promptly taking the offending object from his hands.

"If you're lying, I don't want payment for a month."

Komori raises a thick eyebrow at that, "I'm not and even if I do, you can't make me!" He slaps a handful of coins onto Sachirou's palm.

He pockets them and finds the jiggling quite relaxing, he smiles weakly, hoping it helps both of them in some way in this bidden scenario.

"I'm sorry, Komori-san. I have spoiled your supply of shards. I promise it won't happen again." He apologises with a deep sigh.

"A mistake happening once in a while is normal, there's this story where I once broke my arm trying to rescue Taro. I'm not complaining." Komori rambles as he tosses it somewhere at the back, judging by the thumping of a fallen bookstack, it had landed somewhere very unstrategic.

"Don't you have other things to do? You already came in late and you always come here first."

"I'm supposed to meet Kenma-san, thanks for reminding me!" He heads towards the door and turns back, "And thank you for letting me off the hook, Komori-san!" 

He hears Komori muffling "You're welcome!" and then he's out.

Sachirou spends the rest of his walk deep in thought, _again_. _Black magic so powerful that it affects its surroundings?_

He burns the bricks along the way with a hard stare.

 _And it came from the stab mark on the seagull?_ This just gets more complicated, Sachirou furrows and smooths his wrinkles when he greets a mild good afternoon to one of the aunties. 

Deciding not to think much about it, he enters the Restoration Tree. Finding Kenma surprisingly not at his desk but in a fort of books in the middle of the room.

Kenma looks up when he sees the pair of feet shifting into view. He's sitting cross-legged with a very thick book propped open in front of him. 

"You're late." He greets in his own way.

"I've heard that just now." He answers before cutting into business, "Kenma-san, can I borrow the books a bit longer?"

Kenma shrugs nonchalantly, face unchanging. "Sure. As long as you don't ruin them. I don't want to deal with the upper-ups lecturing me."

The books that tower over Kenma's petite sitting form don't look familiar to him, they have antique covers and pages bound with a string of moonlight silk. They definitely aren't a part of the room's collection of fresh covers and cheap loop binders.

So, he asks. "Are these new?"

Kenma flicks a page, its colour is a splotched old yellow and gold. "Yes, a new shipment from the Capital. Some are donated by the Kageyama family, apparently." He points at the moonlight silk, which was weaved alongside a prussian blue string between the pages.

Moonlight silk, an uncommon sewing material that is sold to the nobility. Combed from the livers of some monsters Sachirou can't remember the name of. Kenma waves the expensive book with the most enthusiasm Sachirou only finds the black-haired scholar gives out when it's related to knowledge or desserts.

Sachirou hides his disinterest expression at the title, "I don't think people have interest in knowing about the lineage and historical years the Kageyama family has."

Kenma actually brightens up, only a tiny bit, but it still happens. "It's somehow funny. The Kageyama family is blessed with powerful abilities but most of their children are very awkward that they ended up using them for the total opposite of better good." He explains.

Sachirou stops him from keeping going, he has been the victim of Kenma's long rambles of much knowledge. The fact that he can't forget about how to make puddings in 47 ways is one of the proofs.

"So, the Kageyama family's books?"

"These are dubbed as national-level treasures. Undeserving in my opinion, the Kageyama family has a very disappointing result of scholars, their children only like to fight. Rowdy princelings." He says the words as if they're a disgrace to utter.

Sachirou holds back a snort, Kenma has always have this sort of vengeance against the Kageyama family. He told him that he encountered a Kageyama once during his scholar training days, and the person gave him 3 broken ribs. _The story isn't funny but Kenma's unresolved hatred is._

Kenma continues, "Unlike the Kita family, they're a humble bunch that actually contributes to the nation's knowledge."

He asks, aware that Kenma is still focusing intensely on the book. "If I remember correctly, the Kita family rules over Hyogo?"

Kenma's eyes flash with hardly concealed excitement. "Alongside the Suna family. Hyogo's one of the few prefectures that barely passes the minimum bar for ruling families; 2. The Suna family originates from Tokyo but since there's only one ancient family in Hyogo, they volunteered to fill the empty spot."

"Right. I don't ask for that, but good to know."

Kenma just grunts, returning his full attention to the boring history book written by a Kageyama. He has known Kenma for a decent time, which means he learnt that Kenma will never burn a book even if it was written by a family member he despised of. The man basically plucks out any free guides at any questionable apothecary, including the pregnancy guides ones.

In short, Kenma doesn't care about the world. Only knowledge and apple pies are important to him.

Sachirou complies to his request. As Kenma flicks another page of the book, he quietly turns around and heads straight to the door, fully concluding that the man is busy drowning himself in the realm of knowledge to notice and spare a glance at an acquaintance going out.

The sun is now directly on the top of his head as Sachirou briskly climbs down the cobbled stairs. Once in a while, he diverts his direction so he can avoid trampling on the fallen leaves since he had witnessed what they can contain.

He slows his pace as he enters the town district once again, the afternoon crowd is more lenient than in the morning so he easily paves his way through the gathering people. Everyone seems absorbed into something plastered on the daily news board in the middle of the plaza and Sachirou will usually join them, but his watch disapproves that by dangerously approaching the 12 number with a _tick-tick-tick._

There it is, the café he's locating, -

"My, what an outrageous thing to happen -"

Squeezed between the town's postal branch and the modest pottery shop, the café is the only store in the area that serves pastries. And it happens to be the spot his client usually frequents.

"Poor Capitalans, everyone must be terrified to go out of their houses -"

Sachirou waves as he spots his client's dual-coloured black and white hair through the glass mirror. He pushes the door open, accompanied by a binging _ding._

"Say here, a few casualties. I'll place my bets on the shifters, what a risky occupation to have -"

Sachirou sits at the opposite of his client, he offers.

"Good afternoon. I hope I'm not late, Kita-san."

Kita nods, "Good afternoon to you too. You're not late."

_How will Kenma sacrifice half his books to have an audience with a Kita._

They're tucked away in a corner, a kettle whistles somewhere behind him as Sachirou observes Kita, clad in casual autumn wear. A maroon scarf is tucked around his neck and into his jacket, and he appears relatively calm as always. Still, Sachirou says.

"Are you doing fine?"

Kita answers with an unwavering voice, "I'm at the peak of my health. I also hope you've been doing well."

"I am." He says in a convinced tone, not because to relieve himself but to make Kita believe in him. The farmer's unseen aura laps with approval and Sachirou proceeds.

"So, what is it this time? Is he injured, maybe a broken bone? Or another gash?"

Kita holds up a steady finger and Sachirou stops to suggest broken ribs to hear the man talking.

"Actually, this time it's not Ojirou or Rintarou." At that, Sachirou blinks. And he finally notices the humongous carrier beside Kita, how can he miss it - It looks like Rintarou's cage but it doesn't take a genius to know that Rintarou doesn't let out deadly scratching noises on his property.

The scratching intensifies and he guesses, "A new one?"

Kita says yes with his eyes before he unlatches the cage door open.

Sachirou nearly jumps back in surprise as a decent-sized red fox leaps out and lands soundlessly on the table. It has dark orange fur, and the guard fur at the end of its tail is black, it spots a deprived mutation at the light yellow for its head and the tips of its ears are silver. A very unique fur mutation.

Sachirou finds himself saying, "Not native to this place." The fox stares at him with lazy, beady eyes, a complete opposite reaction to the violent scratching it just did.

"I suspect so. Meet Atsumu." Atsumu is still staring at him, and Sachirou gets the cold feeling as if he's being shriveled apart and his bones are being examined one by one.

Ignoring the uncomfortable crawling on his skin, he stretches his arms out and Atsumu just stares at him, daring him with its judgy eyes.

"Can I touch him?" Just to be safe.

"Go ahead. Behave, Atsumu."

Atsumu is unsurprisingly very obedient to Kita's orders, like all the foxes attracted to him. It nuzzles into Sachirou's gloved palm as he scratches the side of its face. 

Thick, developing winter fur. A young adult. A broad face. Sachirou lifts its shrubby tail. Atsumu squeaks in response. Penis extruding, male. Kita gives a disapproving look. Atsumu seems to shrink in shame.

After patting Atsumu throughoutly, he says to Kita, who is watching their interaction. "I don't see anything wrong with him."

"Use your mana detector."

Sachirou doesn't question him, he focuses on the melanin in his eyes to Atsumu, who is currently rubbing his snout on his sleeves.

Animals having mana isn't surprising, they have it from birth and use it for their daily scrouges. Territorial fights, mate fights, preying, survival and more. The wilderness has too many death tickets but being balanced with blessed magical prowess makes it fair. Sachirou can feel the vibrating of warm mana whenever he's around animals, and he half-expects the mana in Atsumu to be pure white just like them.

Purplish black mana.

Sachirou doesn't know why, but he doesn't burst out in shock. Shock at this discovery of pure, undeserving magical abilities being tainted with the destroyer of magic itself. It's definitely rare but he's been witnessing this at a restless amount in a short period of time. This third discovery doesn't impact his views too much, unlike with the one momentarily passing out in the bundle of his raft clothes or the clitters of dead energy in Komori's storage room. The black sheep exists in every society but Sachirou isn't asking for it to target his normal life.

Atsumu looks at him with once again, cold eyes. He might have wanted to see Sachirou panicking about why a fox is suddenly filled with dark magic, however, he doesn't receive that. Kita also gives him the same look, Sachirou tries coaxing his beating heart and the excitement in his mana veins to an average rate.

He manages to say, "Atsumu's affected with dark magic."

"Yes, he is. What can you do about it?" Kita confirms with an unchanging tone. Atsumu continues to nuzzle into his sleeves.

"Not much. There's no source of where it came from or physical signs on his body. I can only lessen the magic."

"You can't remove it."

"I can't remove it, but others can. This magic Atsumi's affected with - it's rather dark. You need to seek people who specialise in dark magic to remove this completely. I might be a vet that can treat monsters but I can never treat a human's psychotic doing."

Kita's slitted eyes sliver a bit, Sachirou is sure he just imagined the storm in it because they're back to a tranquil haze after a blink.

"A human?"

Atsumu nuzzles into his arms.

Sachirou wants to hesitate but he gets the feeling that Kita won't approve of it.

"Only humans can perform this type of dark magic, probably black magicians."

"Common people with dark affinities can't cure this?"

"No." Sachirou bites his bottom lip. "If not, you can perform it, but you're born with fire affinity as the highest, Kita-san. I was born with water affinity instead. Dark affinity is rare for people to be born with."

"Dark affinity naturalists are very hard to find, that is true. I don't want to meet a witch to get rid of this curse, and I intend not to give them my firstborn." Atsumu paws for Sachirou to pick him up, bored of simple headpats so he does.

Kita continues, "Light affinity users are to be avoided, they'll only screw Atsumu more." At the mention of his name, Atsumu critters happily.

"Nature affinity users can, but only the real experts. And they're on the same rarity level as dark affinity users."

Kita mutters calmly, "What to do ... What to do ..."

Atsumu is now using Sachirou as his human furnace, his purring vibrating at a low vocal, soft fur tickling his chin.

"Necromancers?"

Kita gives him a doubtless look of approval.

"Necromancers. Rather risky and painful."

"Sure, they'll subject Atsumu to a torturous cure -" Atsumu's bushy tail energetically sways, brushing his legs. "But they are the only ones that can cure a fully infested organism."

He proceeds determinedly, "If maybe others can heal him, they still can't bring back his dead parts. Only necromancers can fix them."

A beat.

Nodding, Kita gives a hand, Atsumu takes it as a signal to leave his perched heater and wiggles out of Sachirou's arms. He climbs onto Kita's shoulders, not before giving another affectionate nuzzle at Sachirou's arms.

Kita does that thing where he smiles but isn't, "I'll take that advice, Sachirou-san. Thank you for discussing this with me."

Atsumu may have sensed that their meeting is nearing its end using his keen foxy detection, anyways, he lets out a pitchy whine and turns his face at Sachirou.

Kita doesn't chuckle, but a fun sound comes out from him. A lively, nice sound. A distant yet familiar sound related to all of his foxes.

"He likes you."

After giving the potions to Kita in exchange for a sacket of rice and some bottles of sake; he gave a goodbye kiss to Atsumu, who was taken aback (more like ear-shattering squeaking) and gave him a gentle palm nuzzling instead. He shook hands with Kita.

Kita warmly says, "Thank you for coming to meet me and checking Atsumu's condition today. I hope I haven't taken a lot of your time."

Sachirou really wonders how Kita can even know that he's been stealing obvious peeks at the clock behind him, maybe a Kita thing. That's why he doesn't lie, he's learnt that lying and Kita don't belong in the same sentence, he's not suicidal to try it.

"You're welcome, Kita-san. Not a trivial matter. I have a few things to attend after this."

"I pray your matters are solved easily."

When he watches Kita's retreating back and the large case Atsumu's in, he can't help but ponder why Kita Shinsuke chooses the path of a humble farmer over the scholar path he ought for his family. To see Kita Shinsuke having a tiny rebellious seed inside his sacred self is indeed phenomenal, even if the reason why isn't something a commoner like him should know.

Sachirou goes to finish his daily routine, he spends an hour at a grandma's house to check on her rabbit's sprained leg, buys some herbs he can't grow using his backyard's cursed soil and plays fetch with a few stray dogs before heading home.

It's nearing sunset and it gives him a prickly sense of deja vu. The walk up to the forest is somehow more suffocating than usual, he realises as he nearly slips from the grizzly path. The air is thicker, but Sachirou can't grasp why. The animals seem to be affected too, there's no chirping of birds or rustling sounds, it's eerily quiet. Sachirou grips his slingbag tighter.

Reaching his cottage, the molecules in the air appear to tense rigidly. Sachirou's fast steps turn into a sprint as everything around him screams _run, run, run away_ and his mana bubbles acidically with an upcoming explosion he knows he can't contain. He bangs the door open and he knows why the area reeks of murderous intent.

The seagull is awake, usually, Sachirou will find this the right step to recovery - but the seagull appears determined to exceed his expectations. It is screeching murderously, unhurt and hurt wings flapping for it to fly but the prison spell Sachirou had cast is working, because it hits an invinsible wall mid-air and it flops back onto his clothes. Well, it works _too_ well because the seagull keeps going back to its webbed feet, stretches its wings and flies back, and hits the wall again. Sachirou watches this on repeat for 3 times until he has seen enough and hurries to the bird.

He finally gets why every breath he sucks in is punching his lungs - every inch of the seagull tremors with ponderous bloodlust, the mana it leeks is blinding white with fury. No animal will want to challenge a predator that has no hesitation to crush everything in its path, and Sachirou is conscious that he'll be killed by this seagull if he messes this up.

"Hey."

The seagull snaps from its deep concentration at his voice. It glares at him with unconcealed fervousness, it opens its beak to screech warningly.

Kneeling, Sachirou opens his arms. "Hey -" Softly, he says. "I'm not going to hurt you."

That doesn't comfort it at the slightest as the seagull's massive irises are filled with disbelief and the promising gift of threat edges closer with every second. However, Sachirou tries.

"You see the bandage wrapped around your wing? That's my doing." At that, the seagull's head turns downwards to its wrapped wing, like he understands what Sachirou was saying.

"Yesterday, you fell from the sky." It cocks its head back, eyes still untrusting. "I picked you up and treated your injury - I won't ask for you to give me answers, I just want you to believe in me."

It stares at him. The same cold type Atsumu had given him earlier.

"I won't hurt you."

His hushes have delivered the final need for the seagull to relax. Its tense body lowers slowly and the fury around it evaporates, leaving a glimmer of motionless white mana.

"I'll get rid of the spell, don't attack me, okay?"

Sachirou mutters, _"Kaihou suru."_

The same magic circle shines, it absorbs the bright, visible blue barrier around it before shrinking into a small dot and disappears. The seagull judgementally looks at it and Sachirou.

Sachirou puts his hand pressed on the floor, "There, I'm not hurting you, am I?"

The bird contemplates, a few seconds pass, then it squawks assuringly.

It is now calm, no longer releasing ultimate bloodlust so Sachirou releases the breath he's storing inside him ever since he was exposed to the disoriented mana.

Hopping towards him, it chirps.

Sachiroi chuckles, "You must be confused, huh ..." He intends to stroke its dirty feathers but the seagull hops away, squawking in warning.

"Okay. Okay. No touching without consent." He says, holding both of his hands up in the air.

"I'm going to pick you up and change the bandage, okay?" The seagull nods, deeming it harmless but its movement stalls when hearing the second question.

Sachirou carefully picks up the seagull, putting him on the spotless table. The bandage comes off easily and Sachirou frowns at the injury.

A stabbing mark usually requires stitches but the wound is already closed, the skin appeared to tighten naturally, _overnight._ He glances at the patched skin, funny in a very weird way. Raw, red skin disappears as he hides it with a layer of the new bandage. Snipping the end with a pair of sharp scissors and a withering glare from the seagull as if he'll try to stab him soon, he secures the wrap and pats it very gently.

"Here. We both will like it if you can take a bath but I don't think water is nearing you anytime soon."

If the seagull is human, it might have winced. The painful memory of diving into the ocean and an open wound being submerged in saltwater is too painful to think about.

To that, Sachirou adds. "Not that you need to. The saltwater yesterday already cleansed your wound so I can tell you that everything's fine."

It might have rolled its eyes, Sachirou doesn't know anymore - it gives a very hard lookover at the packet of bread besides the sink.

He jerks up, "Are you hungry?"

It is still acting as if it's not currently wishing for the bread to float over and enter its beak.

"Fish might be better than bread."

The seagull squawks at that.

"Unfortunately for both of us, my last stock of fish just turned out mouldy this morning. You won't mind berries, do you?"

It caws.

"Berries and bread, it is!" He shouts as he motions for the packet of bread to float towards them, followed by a handful of colourful berries.

The seagull gives a quizzical noise at the floating bread, Sachirou playfully tips its head back.

"You think I can't use magic, do you? Jeez, what's with all the judgy animals I meet today." It begins trying to nip his finger.

He shreads a piece of bread while the seagull feasts on the berries. Sachirou notices it deliberately avoiding the purple ones, especially blackberries and blueberries.

"So you do know what you've been tossed into, huh?" He says it quietly in hope that the seagull doesn't hear it, but it does as it tilts its head with curiousity.

Sachirou lets himself be captivated by its irises. Bright, cheerful, with a dark brown glistening form. If he peels them down, he's guaranteed to meet with endless gloaming, a supernova of twilight and unexpected dusk; they're that kind of irises. The spell breaks when the seagull squawks loudly, returning Sachirou back to tossing the shredded pieces onto the table besides the sorted purple berries.

It is still waiting for an answer, Sachirou shoves a piece into the seagull's mouth.

"You're pretty noisy, you know that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually pretty fast for me to update, I usually laze around for 2 months before writing something but all your comments and kudos just make me go  
> ಥ﹏ಥ
> 
> ಥ﹏ಥ  
> ಥ﹏ಥ  
> ಥ﹏ಥ
> 
> Anyways, there's an ongoing pest problem at my house rn and going to sleep with the thought of having your roof falls upon you is rather dark. Which is why I only write when it's after midnight.
> 
> Anyways, enough talking about me. Let's talk about this fic!
> 
> Phew, finally some progress! We're still deep in the whole world-building but the plot is gearing uppppp. If you guys have any questions, ask away and I'll try to answer them!
> 
> Guess that's all, for those who are in quarantine, stay safe! And for those who aren't, stay safe! Thank you for all the lovely comments, they motivate me!
> 
> Credits to my sister for helping me with infos about seagulls and animal injuries.
> 
> Will you guys like footnotes though.
> 
> Bells symbolise protection.
> 
> Prussian blue is now called midnight blue, the history behind the changing is pretty depressing.
> 
> Adding the Kita Shinsuke tag feels satisfying.
> 
> To = I61K, Namjoon_is_a_visual, SolivagantBirb, hoshiumongoose, funkdamental, Anxious_Flannels, listenlaughgod, and fayented as well as 4 guests •~•
> 
> ☆\•□•\
> 
> 《《《《《《<<<\¤◇¤\
> 
> Bokuto Beam of appreciation!


	3. To Lucks and Constellations

"Why does everyone look anxious today?"

Komori looks up from a piece of paper that might be a list, his muscles show the dimples he rarely hides as he smiles. "What do you mean by anxious?"

Sachirou fiddles with a crystal shard, one of the failures he gave him prior days before. It's ashy black in colour and when hit by natural light, it becomes darker, almost toxic. It doesn't help the hatred that surfaces beneath the coating of his veins when it reflects his face. He flicks it onto the counter beside Komori's packed goods.

He dispassionately shrugs, "I don't know. But there's this uneasiness going around town and you know everything."

"Wow, I'm honoured that you didn't go to Kenma!" Komori picks up the crystal shard, the action makes his cuffed sleeve slide down a bit, revealing an arm wrapped in thick bandages. He had unsuccessfully tried to hide it when Sachirou came in, but he had seen it. Sachirou's curious as to how Komori, who is very careful, ended up with an injury like that. He respects his privacy so he doesn't ask, he assumes that he got it during one of his dangerous work errands. It's been a solid 3 days since the seagull barrelled into his life, he was going through his daily routine and his last stop was at Komori's since he had received a message bell early that morning to how there's no extra work for him today.

He shoves a foot from the wooden platform, looking upwards at the dream catchers. The shower of colourful feathers reminds him of a certain seagull.

"Everything Kenma knows comes from his monthly scholar meetings and he can't discuss too much about his work, remember?" There's a dusty chandelier hiding between the hanged charms, Sachirou sees a spider twirling down from its cobweb. Its long legs stretch out as it lands on a suit of armour from across the shop.

"Do you know anything about it?"

Komori hums in thought, he plays with the end of his dress shirt's ribbon. "Something happened in the Capital."

"Capital?" Sachirou wonders if it's something political such as the three regional families having territorial disputes, it gets bloodier if a supporting family joins them. News from Tokyo isn't always joyous, especially when it comes from the mouth of Capitalans. Sachirou understands why an unknown and tiny town like Heiwa will be affected.

"A major disaster happened." Komori let go of the ribbon. "Except this time it's not Mother Nature. Continue?" He asks.

"It won't hurt."

"A fire broke out. There's a lot of casualties." _Death._ "Even a few shifters are affected."

Sachirou's jaw falls open, "Shifters?" A common fire usually won't even make shifters blink in its face, they are magical mutants that are immune to normal destruction. If something like a fire managed to touch them, then it's bad news, which means that it wasn't a normal fire.

"Someone cast a magical fire," he hitches. "On purpose."

Komori sighs, confirming his suspicion. He waves his arm wildly, the injured one and it clicks. He got that in Tokyo. "That's why everyone's so anxious." Leaning in, his voice drops to a whisper. "Do you know that Udai-jiichan's grandson is one of the victims?"

Panic ensues him as he gapes, "Tenma-san's injured?!". Everyone in Heiwa knows about Udai-jiichan's grandson, the old man always gushes about his sweet Tenma, talking about how proud he is that his only surviving lineage is rewarded as one of the highest scholars in the kingdom. Sachirou's insides twist in agitation at imagining what he's going through right now.

"I was there." His voice drops into a lower octave. "When a healer was treating me, I saw Tenma-san passing by in a stroller. It's not my intention to eavesdrop, but I heard a group of shifters arguing about his condition," his nail picks on a wooden scrape. "He's doused in a coma."

Now, that really isn't what Sachirou expects. "He's still not awake?"

Komori shakes his head, "I don't know. You don't happen to see Udai-jiichan these past few days?"

Sachirou blurts out, "No." Thinking about it, a few familiar faces have disappeared completely from the town or morning crowd, it's certainly not Udai only.

Komori goes back to reviewing his list while Sachirou takes the news in. He grabs a quill and scribbles, making gritty scratches. Sachirou says, "Is that why there's no request today?"

He stops, the tip splotching the ink largely. "No. I've had enough stock already for this month."

It's not even the second constellation week yet but Sachirou doesn't open his mouth, Komori has the right not to tell him after all. The man in front of him has always been an enigma; when Sachirou first stumbled upon his shop after an intense cat chase, the cat accidentally broke a fancy-looking vase. He gave up on chasing the felidae to repair it back under Komori's glare. Komori was impressed by his skills to repair it using magic and asked him to help polish some old crystal shards. After that, he works for him, firstly out of guilt but he finds Komori's company enchanting. There's warmth that oscillates around him, lulling living beings with a tender touch.

Komori sometimes talks about his job as a travelling merchant. He had travelled to all the places in the country, even visiting the reclusive parts and forbidden areas, but his favourites remain as Tokyo; his birthplace, and Heiwa. The only statement he said when Sachirou asked _why Heiwa_ was _it's peaceful._

That's why he feels like he doesn't need to ask Komori what he had done with all the crystal shards, or who he is in dividations. He's not that nosy.

* * *

He stands with his hands in his pockets, the door to Komori's shop behind him. He has nothing to do, the trip to Komori is the last on his list for today. He decides to return home.

The seagull squawks in greeting when Sachirou enters his house, it flaps its uninjured wing and Sachirou drops into a seat. The bird hops across the table, head tilting, asking as to why he looks a bit gloomy.

Sachirou finds the seagull to be a very nosy bird, the nosiest he ever met because it has this judgemental look everytime it sets its quirky eyes on something. Yesterday, he discovered the seagull staring intently at the turtleneck he's wearing, mentally criticising his outfit of the day. Sachirou doesn't know birds have fashion senses. 

"Nothing." He says, and there it is, that judgy stank eye.

Sachirou opens the lid to a ceramic pot full of fresh berries, it's only a few days since he's been nursing the seagull but he knows about the bird's obsession with the fruit. Or it is because that's the only food it finds edible in his house (It rejected raw fish for dinner, and it's the most expensive fish Sachirou had ever bought). He nips on a berry, his incisors tingling at the sour juice.

"Been wondering how weird this week had been." He ends it there, the idea of consulting to a seagull sounds to be something only a madman would do and Sachirou doesn't label himself as one. The bird gives him another round of the oddly untrusting look then it turns around to attack the berry supply.

He makes himself a cup of tea, the breeze he lets in through the windows cooling his skin. 3 Libra days have passed, which he goes through with deserved peace. The seagull he rescued is making a camp in his cottage, the stabbed wing as the reason. Sachirou confesses to himself that he is still asking questions about how the animal even got it, and the fall it managed to survive after getting it. The one thing circling his mind is _why_ dark magic?

Consulting trustworthy Restoration books and scrolls, he read the types of animals for sacrifice. There's one detailed topic on dogs, a whole chapter explaining why a cat's canine is effective for cursebreaking, two paragraphs about toads with the end line being a promotional _:To learn more about the use of a toad's slime, =Gratification of A Toad; Poisoned or Not= by Scholar Takeda Ittetsu:_. After scrounging for a few hours (he also memorised it), he spotted a minor mention of seagulls.

> _The Larus is widely deemed as the luckiness bringer of either good or bad. A trio of the esteemed creature seen together foreshadows an upcoming death, this is a sign which sailors and sea dwellers are wary of. To bring goodness, the creature must be sacrificed. **Ugh, why can't they just say dead seagulls bring good luck, for pudding's sake** (This one is in Kenma's very robotic handwriting)_
> 
> _Sacrificial methods include: drowning in seawater that doesn't ripple for 4 days, strangling by a 4 constellation-year male kid, skinned with an emboldened silver sword._

No method that involves a dagger. Sachirou threw out the sacrifice theory and closed the book, everyone not idiotic enough knows not to mess up a sacrificial ritual.

There are other theories lurking around but Sachirou only finds one of them to be relevant. A cruel joke. The seagull is injured over a cruel joke. There's the possibility of a dark affinity user playing around with it, or it accidentally ends up in an unpredictable situation. Honestly? Sachirou can't judge, but this is driving him up to a wall.

And the seagull, the seagull acts as nosy and weird as it can. Constantly pecking him, begging for his attention, if Sachirou doesn't think that a seagull can have human intellect, he would think it's like it wants something important from him. It has its berries and free healthcare commodities, what else? The seagull appears to eat all of Sachirou's words, so focused that sometimes Sachirou needs to poke it from its reverie. The seagull also sends intense glances at the window and the door; hah, it doesn't care that Sachirou watches how its wings rise up a bit before dropping them down with obvious disappointment. It is eager to get away from this place.

No way is Sachirou going to let it break free just like that. He monitored it to see if there were any significant changes in its mana energy, and was shocked to find none. Other than the broken skin magically mending itself, there wasn't anything that showed the worrying side-effects of dark magic. 

As he stares at it gulping down a huge wineberry, Sachirou knows that he needs to find out what is going on.

* * *

"In you go! In you go!"

"SQUAWK!"

"It's just water!"

The seagull looks ready to pierce his palm with its beak so Sachirou hurriedly drops it into the basin. Water overflows at the dropped weight, the seagull screaming in retort. He had heated up the water already, but it appears not to enjoy this bath as much as he thought other birds would do. Sachirou tries not to look guilty as it glares at him, water splashing everywhere, including him as he lifts the wrapped wing so it won't touch the water. 

He washes his hands, removing any trace of dirt from them. "You are dirty and you smell like mud. 3 days is enough to slowly start taking a hygienic bath." 

The seagull screeches.

"Hah! You can't go against my orders." He rubs one palm at its head, smoothing down the ruly feathers. His other palm rubs down its body, some dried mud melts onto his fingers in a brown liquid form before being absorbed into the water, turning it into a disinteresting murkier shade. He dips his palm into it before using both his hands to clean its face. The seagull stays unmoving as Sachirou wipes the corner of its eyes, tiny flecks of mud stick between his fingernails. 

The seagull doesn't enjoy taking a bath but it sure enjoys Sachirou's undivided care for its body. After its feathers turn into a clean shade of white and the water in the basin becomes a light beige, Sachirou perches the seagull on the chair, waiting for it to dry. He downs the basin into the sink while the seagull preenes on its wet feathers, avoiding the black rectangle on its wing as its large beak untangles the knots of white feathers. Sachirou goes to it with a supply of medicine, the bird understands, going alongside the routine as it shows the mark to him. He makes quick work of it, dabbing a cotton of healing potion on the fastly-forming pink scar and wrapping a bandage around the wing. Its chest rumbles against the back of his hand, a soft purr of content that melts Sachirou's heart.

It is like this for the next few days, just Sachirou and the unnamed seagull going through the same daily routine. He blinks, and it's now the 14th Day of the Libra Constellation. The upcoming mid-autumn wind is more noticeable, it brings the smell of salt and rotten soil through the windows. The seagull sometimes opens its beak, vaguely capturing the taste of changing coloured leaves on its tongue. The anxious mood he confessed to Komori is no longer draping a heavy blanket onto the town, it has returned to its original state and he's grateful for it.

He's been busy setting up early preparations for the festival and attending the seagull. The seagull's wound is looking to be in great shape, Sachirou expects another week will seal the injury, but the problem here - the seagull _isn't. Particularly. Happy._

If more, it is gloomier with each passing day, it miraculously warms up to him but that comes with the price being - angry. Its stank eye has levelled up to an _angry_ stank eye. Sachirou had discussed what name he should call it because calling it _seagull_ doesn't sound nice, but it growled in protest and gave him the newly-buffed look with no mercy. Sachirou put too much effort into making himself comfortable by calling it _seagull_ after that.

He swears that the seagull's happiness level is reaching its negative drop soon, even when he doesn't know why. There's that same creepy feeling where the bird seems to wait for something, focusing on that one thing and forgets about everything around it. It's on and off constantly, a few times when its sharp eyes stare at the world outside the windows. Jealousy rages whenever a bird flies past.

And Sachirou prefers that escape plan not to happen. That's why, on the upcoming evening of the 15th Day of the Libra Constellation, he approaches the seagull, which is playing with a purple berry (It still avoids eating the purple ones). 

He opens his bag, "Get in here."

It squints its left eye, looking down at the bag and looking up at his face. The saying is pretty obvious, _excuse me?_

"Get in here," he repeats, "I'm taking you for a walk."

It sinks in the words before its face turns into a happy expression, squawking cheerfully, it makes its way into the bag. He already puts a folded cloth in case of comfort, Sachirou says to the big head poking out.

"Never go out unless I want you to, understand?"

The bird nods, understanding. They both have build a pillar of trust somewhere between Sachirou trying to defend himself from its murder attempts and relaxing petting sessions, so he trusts its words. He pats its poking head.

"Do you like stargazing?"

* * *

There's only looming blackness in front of them, behind them is the descent down lit by firefly glows, an emblazonment of hush. Sachirou can feel the seagull looking ahead with curiosity. He moves his legs, entering the top of the Restoration Tree.

Amazement captures him as the decorated night sky shines with asterisms of stars, he hears the seagull's stopped breath, and he captures this in. The ceilings above them are all drifting apart, making way for the small sparkles to grace the inky stage. There's no moon, but it's bright enough, almost to the point where Sachirou wants to shield himself from the burning light. He says, voice husky under the searing performance.

"The stars are gracing us with their presence tonight."

It chirps, an uncommon sound at nighttime. Yet, it sounds suitable.

"Sachirou."

He looks at his left. Kenma's standing at the edge of the theatre, he's blending in the shadows and it's nerving how he can make himself almost invincible. He raises a greeting, "Good evening, Kenma-san."

Kenma doesn't move from his spot, he sees him wiping something from his face before saying in a nearly hoarse voice, "You brought company." 

Sachirou holds up the bag, the seagull stays still, its eyes settling on Kenma's dark figure. He strokes its neck, feeling its jaunt muscles relaxing. "Kenma-san, meet seagull. Seagull, meet Kenma-san."

A soft snort comes from Kenma, almost inaudible. "You named him seagull?"

"I've tried naming him Buruberi, mind you."

"Still a bad name." He finally steps into the light, his boots clunking on the floor. Now Sachirou understands how he can be a part of the shadows, he's dressed in black from head to toe. The hoodie is too big for him that it reaches his hips, his straight hair's let down for once as it spills from his thin shoulders. Kenma silently accepts the seagull's presence, he flicks his catlike eyes, the only ones that aren't black to Sachirou instead.

"Only this once." Then he turns around, Sachirou follows him as Kenma brushes his fingers on the telescope he must had set up earlier, the ring mark on his finger seems to burn brighter in the dark outlines. Sachirou crouches down so he's eye-level with the lenses.

A strong gush of wind blows from the direction of the sea, his nose tickles with the acidic smell. Kenma looks up at the sky, his earlob catches on a strand of long hair. "What do you know about Andromeda?"

Sachirou answers, "The nearest major galaxy to our Milky Way, right?'

"Don't ask me," Kenma scrunches his nose, "You're the expert here."

He chuckles, "Sure. The Andromeda Nebula is the most distant object visible to the naked eye, it's so big that you can see it as a cloud. Look, there it is." He points at the bright rings that are surrounded by a soufflé of clouds

"Of course it is. We're here to see the Andromeda constellation." Kenma says sarcastically.

"Be more excited, will you. Do you want to use the telescope?"

"Too bothersome," _Why did you even set it up then?_ "Use it if you want."

"What are you going to do?"

"Work." Kenma unceremoniously proceeds towards the door, his footsteps echoing as he goes down the staircase. Sachirou suppresses the urge to scratch his head at the action. If Komori's an enigma, Kenma is like an untouchable god. He's not that mysterious in his opinion but he seems to have a complicated way of doing specific things. The way Kenma thinks is simple yet the actions he produces are augmented with more than simplicity.

He decides to leave him alone, Kenma must had been satisifed enough with stargazing, and he knows how busy a scholar can be. The seagull chirps and Sachirou watches it eying the telescope intently. He pulls him out of the bag and positions them both to squat in front of it. He adjusts the telescope's levels as the bird wiggles a bit so it can easily see through the scope. 

Zooming in, he says, "That's Alpheratz, the biggest star in Andromeda." The star glimmers, even through the naked eye, its sparkle is rather captivating. Through zooming lenses, it looks even magnificent with its unremarkable blue-green defying the laws of space. He twists the scope, zooming out. "It's a part of the 7th biggest constellation in space, the Pegasus. Look at all the stars connecting with each other." Dots and dots litter everywhere on the backdrop, appealing them further as the constellation stars outshine the others.

He peeks at the seagull and finds its head pressed flat on the lenses, its irises at the edge of its eyes to look at it properly. Sachirou smiles, "Isn't it big?"

It chirps in reply, Sachirou turns his view back to the sky. Trailing the Great Square of Pegasus, his smile turns sadder, "I studied astronomy as a child."

The seagull properly looks up at him, its feathers tickling his chin. Sachirou grins, "That's why I'm an expert at stargazing."

It makes what appears to be a very-annoyed eyeroll before returning back to the telescope, Sachirou rubs its head affectionately. "Rude."

After answering the multiple questions about the stars as the seagull sounds animatedly, he flops onto the floor, it tumbles with him and into his lap. Sachirou lays his head properly on the hard tree trunks, ignoring the uncomfortable jabs at the back of his knees and skull. 

It's funny how a change of perspective can have a huge impact, he titters at the thought as the stars twinkle brilliantly. He asks out, "See any zodiac constellations?"

_Tweet._

_Libra?_

He settles on a laugh, "Tut-tut-tut. Libra's visible during early summer."

The seagull gives him a look that suspiciously says, _it's not my fault that my astronomy knowledge is outdated!_

"Something permanent can't be outdated. Try again."

_Scorpius?_

"Also summer."

_Capricornus?_

"Close enough since it's visible during early autumn but wrong~"

_Isn't it early autumn?_

"No, it's mid-autumn right now."

_HAH?!_

"It's the 15th day of the Libra Constellation. The last night of early autumn is a week ago."

_Care to explain?!_

"You're getting the time wrong." He can feel the seagull fidgeting. "We're in mid-autumn, and the answer's Aquarius."

But the seagull appears to have forgotten the constellation quiz they were playing as it glares angrily - frustratingly at the sky. Sachirou feels dread freezing up his veins, this is the same look that's worrying him but this time, it's very different. There's no blazing of stoic determination, just a hateful grudge of disappointment and guilt. It is wrong, it doesn't suit it at all. It's always brimming with power and seeing it as dull as one of the cursed crystal shards - it's wrong.

Unconsciously, he hugs it. It squirms in his hold but Sachirou holds it tight, not even breaking his strength until it finally stops trying to tear his arms off. The seagull shrieks, it should've been alarmed and yet, it sounds broken.

"Do you know the meaning of Aquarius?"

It freezes, _what?_

"Luckiest of the lucky. Three of its stars are named with luck. All three associates with the the life stage of an Aquarius." He watches the lowest star of the constellation shimmer rapidly in a battle with its neighbours, "I'm an Aquarius, and nearly every day in my life is blessed with good luck." The star is winning, its light outshining them. "I was born with a natural talent to avoid danger, anything dangerous, and dark magic is no exception." The seagull twitches, Sachirou grips it tighter, careful to avoid touching the injury.

"When I knew that you were affected with dark magic, my instinct screamed for me to run." The star has beaten its neighbours, but now it's lonely. There's no excitement of another starlight battling for domain in the pitch-black sky. "But you know what? I gave myself a big fuck you by ignoring my instinct. What's more important than saving a life?" He blinks, and a star shines dimly above it.

"I'm glad for that." He looks down at the seagull, its eyes are unreadable. When he continues looking, they become glossed over. Sachirou remembers a past memory where he once had seen the exact same eyes - crystalline slanted eyes.

"Sometimes, my mind still screams for me to run away. But you're anchoring it back, just by your own willpower." His mouth quirks up a bit, "There's something that's worth all the trouble inside you that attracts me. And you're just a seagull."

They both look up at the blanket of stars that stretch to infinity.

"Thank you."

Sachirou looks down so fast that his spine cracks, he pushes back the abrupt pain and sees the seagull as unmoving as ever, the only change is that it's staring at the sky with eyes drowning in solitude. The stars reflecting on them, its feathers darkening to a lighter grey and its chest beating with fragility - envelop it in an ethereal glow. At that moment, he doesn't care anymore. About his luck or the danger he's marched into. 

"You're welcome." Sachirou smiles, and it might be the last night he'll ever enjoy peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only Sachirou can give a pep talk towards a seagull.
> 
> If you guys have questions about the au, I'll be glad to answer them without giving most of the spoilers.
> 
> *shuffles stray papers*
> 
> So, what did the Kageyama family do to Kenma? Question by QY.  
> = Unsurprisingly, the Kageyama family has a very troublesome family curse. There are many myths and legends but the most popular one (and gossiped) is that a great ancestor had angered a mythical being, which resulted in a deep-rooted curse where one among seven of children that has the Kageyama blood will have the traits of a complete douchebag.  
> Kenma was just minding his own business until he met the famed douchebag of a Kageyama.
> 
> I seriously don't know how this is filled with rambling about stars though. I'm a Scorpio btw I need to find my gang. All of the bits about constellations are true.
> 
> << lynlemoncandi, KurapikasDad, PinipleKHET, I61K, Namjoon_is_a_visual, SolivagantBirb, hoshiumongoose, funkdamental, Anxious_Flannels, listenlaughgod, and akeicchi as well as 6 guests! >>  
> Thanks for the lovely support!!! <3
> 
> The Story of Aquarius: Zeus was captivated by Ganymede, so he sent his eagle named Aquila to kidnap the boy. It is not determined whether Zeus transformed into the eagle or the eagle's a separate being. Otherwise, the eagle brought Ganymede to Olympus where he was appointed as a cupbearer. Remember that a cupbearer is a high-ranking position and only the most trustworthy can have it.
> 
> Ganymede, Aquila, and the damn cup (I forgot the name, sorry) are among the names of the stars in the Aquarius constellation.  
> Not going to lie but the story is pretty much a gay love story if you dig a little deeper. 
> 
> I FINISHED THIS CHAPTER AT LONG LAST it's damn 3 am let me sleep, I'll correct anything wrong tomorrow. And use a politer language.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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